


Tales & Tenants

by DamnthatGeko, lightinthedarkness



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Canon Typical Swearing, Gore, Inspired by Wise Man’s Tree and granted permission to use by Curriebelle~, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Violence, Will be Tagged as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-07 13:40:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7716859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DamnthatGeko/pseuds/DamnthatGeko, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightinthedarkness/pseuds/lightinthedarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percival de Rolo of Whitestone and Keyleth Sul of the Ashari family have arrived at Wildhelm, the estate of the powerful Vessar family; among them the tenacious twins Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan, and the young but vivacious Vivian, Vax’s daughter. A shocking event will interrupt the quaint visit, sending our companions on a quest that will have them stranded outside of comprehensible reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Iron and Wood

Death was a loud affair. 

It was accompanied with pleas from numb lips, mumbled supplicants, complaints of time cut short. It was followed by sobbing and wailing, with frantic entreatments and hopeless, hapless imaginings. The silence that accompanied a corpse, however, was a singular anomaly. The quiet buzzed as if insects had already discovered the putrid flesh upon a decimated corpse, was suffocating.

Red rivers ran upon the dusky wood of the nursery floor. Flickering in the dim candle light, almost dancing, merry and crimson. The floors had just been waxed given the recent visitors to the house. The woody smell was sharp and low, mingling with the odor of fat from the wax. Overlaid on top of it, ruling the room and repelling those within range of it was a heavy smell of iron and crimson. It followed the rivers like a red fog into which the corners of the once cheery room disappeared. 

It was here, at the epicenter of a web woven of gory strings lay his child’s governess. Dead. Her face still warm under his frantic fingers. The tip of her nose was just beginning to chill in the fall air.

He could feel sweat between his fingers and the loose beating of his heart in his chest. It was doing double time, no, triple time, one for him, one for her….one for his child.

His thoughts where scattering as fast as the blood must have pumped from the perfect slit in her throat. Her neck was laid open from ear to ear, gaping like a second mouth with teeth made of bloody vertebrae. This had been a perfect cut. A perfect kill. She would not have had time to utter a gasp, let alone a scream before she looked down and saw slippery red upon her bodes, upon her hands which she must have raised to cover the deadly wound, upon the floor as she faded for the last time into sleep, glimpsing only the blurry boots of her killer.

Boots. Between frazzled wisps of hair that managed to free themselves from their tie, he could see footprints in the clotted pool, two sets of them. One large,  _ murderer! _ One small,  _ my child!  _ The small pair stopped halfway across the room, running for the door. The others continued on. They continued on. 

The governess was stiffening beneath his hands, finally succumbing to rigor mortis. She was a testament to the silence. However, silence had never fitted him well. The volume of death was unlike anything the nursery had heard before. In fact, it was unlike anything the entire house had witnessed in its slowly molding memory. He hoped he could hear it,  _ kidnapper! _


	2. Chapter 1: An Arrangement of Ink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The world for this fic is best described as a version of Exandria many years in the future from where we find ourselves with Vox Machina at the moment. It also happens to closely resemble victorian England, which is a setting born out of one author's interest in Grimm's fairy tales and the other’s in Jane Austen novels, and both with an appreciation for Curriebelle’s Wise Man’s Tree. This is going to be one interesting ride.

 

The land around Westruun was wide and open, only rarely interrupted by scattered cops of trees. Little gullies and sprawling brush were cut through by small, pebbled creeks. It was all together rather quaint and lush. Everything seemed greener, more saturated, as though the frequent rain in the area supplied the countryside with pure verdant pigment. 

It was altogether rather alien to Keyleth Sul, heiress apparent to the air house of the Ashari people. Westruun was nothing like the high windswept plateaus of her home. The landscape was even unlike the tall, dry forests of Emon where she had visited a handful of times.

Soft hills rolled by the carriage, illuminated a succulent green by the early noon day sun that was trailing West across the sky just before a bank of brooding clouds. The sky seemed so far away here. It seemed to reflect the unease she could feel bubbling quietly in her stomach, low on her mind much like the clouds just above.

The fine wood carriage bumped over a particularly large obstruction in the gravel path. Keyleth moved with the jostling of the carriage. She would have much preferred a teleportation circle then the horse drawn carriage she was traveling in now.

“Your Highness, are you quite alright?” Her companion’s scaly face twisted in concern, brow furrowed as he held out an arm to steady her.

She took a moment to respond, torn from her thoughts by the shaking of the carriage. She stared at him like a wide-eyed doe before shaking her head, “I’m fine, Tiberius, thank you.” she straightened herself, leaning back into the plush seat.

Her companion, Tiberius Stormwind of Draconia, placed his arm back into his own lap, worry still betrayed in his face by the slight shifting of the heavy scales above his eyes, “If I may, Your High-”

“Tiberius,” for the first time since that morning, a small, warm smile graced her lips, “I’ve told you, time and time again. To you, I’m Keyleth,” she reached over, her soft, freckled hand covering his scaley one, “Your friend.”

His worried look started to fade slowly away, his own smile beginning to make an appearance on his long face, “Well,  _ Keyleth _ , as your...friend, I must say,” small trails of smoke leaft his nostrils in amusement, and with a huff they were out the open carriage window, “You don’t look particularly well. Why, that’s the first smile I’ve seen from you all day.”

Her smile dropped, Keyleth’s gaze moved out the carriage window, “I told you, I’m fine. I just-”

“It’s your soon-to-be marriage, isn’t it?” She felt him shift, seeing now that his hand was overtop her’s, lightly squeezing it. “Now, I’m not sure exactly how much comfort this will bring, but there’s a good chance it won’t even happen.”

“Tiberius,” Her gaze was back at him, “I have….very little doubt that within in a few months time, Vax’ildan Vessar will come home with me, as Vax’ildan Sul....” 

He nodded, clawed thumb rubbing gently against her hand, scraping lightly with the dulled point, “I’m rather aware of the terms of the agreement that your father has set out.”

“He’ll make a fine addition to the family, he and his little one.” she couldn’t help but giggle at the last part.

“Ah yes,” he paused, eyes joining her’s out the window and into the rolling hills beyond, thoughts lost for a moment, “I still have trouble justifying your father arranging a marriage between you and a man with a child born out of wedlock.”

“Tiberius!” The two looked at one another once more, her hurt expression now firm and stony, “I know you mean no ill-will, but my... future child will not be insulted for actions or circumstances she had no control over.” her words were as hard as her expression, seeming to cut deep into his scaly hide. She hoped they would stay with him during their visit.

He flinched involuntarily, taking a moment to collect himself with an affected cough, “Of course, my apologies Your Highness,” a chuckle started to escape him, “I apologize again, but...you were rather admirable just now.”

Keyleth’s eyebrows rose, “You think it admirable of me to scold you?”

“No no, certainly not,” another chuckle, “I was simply referring to your posture, your conviction, everything in that moment, it was the makings of a true Head of the Sul house,” he bowed his head slightly, “One that I am honored to call a companion.”

When he lifted his head, her face was a close approximation of his own in hue, flushed with embarrassment, “Ti….Ti..Tiberius!” she lightly smacked his arm, “Y...y-you speak far too much!” she crossed her arms and leaned once more against the seat, pouting at how his chuckle devolved into full laughter, lightening the mood to reflect the sun above, just peeking out from behind heavy clouds. For a while the atmosphere of the carriage was brighter.

A short time later a light tap against the side of the carriage brought their attention to the window once more, a dark-haired man they recognized as their driver staring at them through the opening, “My apologies M’Lord, M’Lady,” he bowed his head, “But we have arrived at the Vessar estate.”

The announcement fell on deaf ears as the two looked beyond the driver, beyond the tall, dark iron gates in front, choosing instead to admire one of the many homes of the Vessar family. It was a stoney affair, built of white marble and trimmed in gold, with soaring parapets that shone in the afternoon light. Along the edges of the house, Ivy carefully crawled up the side in a perfectly controlled tangle. The lawns swooped in green swirls of hedge and grass back and forth down to the pathway that in turn wound its way outward to the heavy iron gate that stood over the entrance to the house. Behind it rose tall, dark trees, bordering the beginnings of a wild kind of park to the rear. 

All in all it was an impressive house, one that Keyleth could appreciate. The carriage started again and as she was bumped up and down over rocks and sticks in the path, she wondered why none of the beauty of the house or it’s grounds soothed her creeping unease.

 

~*~

 

“You wanted to see me father?” Vax’ildan Vessar closed the cherry wood door to his father's study with a practiced indifference, letting it slam into the stile with unnecessary force. A small show of defiance.

Behind an imposing desk of none other than the finest wood from the Verdant Expanse sat Syldor Vessar. In a room of opulent and luxurious furnishings, he wore by far the utmost excessive, and was without a doubt the stiffest and most unyielding.

He stared at Vax for what seemed like forever, judgement deep in his cold, calculating brown eyes, “Yes,” his response was clipped, stiff, carefully putting the papers in his hand on the desk, “Is the child at her lessons?” he motioned a hand towards the hardwood chair in front of the desk, giving his son an expectant look.

Vax’s face was almost as cold as his father’s, barely a twitch in his eye at the question. He remained standing, hands crossed behind his back,  “Yes father, I saw Vivian to her tutor just a few moments ago, but...I’d appreciate it, if you would tell me-”

“The daughter of the Ashari Sul family,” Syldor interrupted him, his gaze refocused on the papers, “And your future wife, will be arriving in a few hours time. So say my scouts,” The wood creaked underneath him as Syldor leaned over his desk, fingers laced to prop up his chin, “You will be in charge of accommodating her and her companion, make her feel at home.”

A nod, “Of course, what reason would I have to irritate Vivian’s future mother?” He couldn’t help but flinch at his own phrase, even more so at the small, subtle smirk his father gave him. 

“Excellent,” his hands fell gently to the desk, fingers tapping against the wood, “I’m pleased to see you finally….accepting things as they are.” 

“My dearest father,” The sneer was all too prominent on Vax’ildan’s face. He racked his mind, carefully constructing his words with the care of an expert novelist, “The transition would certainly be...easier for me and  _ my child _ if you allowed me to tell her-”

His nostrils flared as he paused, Syldor’s appraising stare and darkening eyes interrupting him. The frequency of the tapping grew, the sound almost breaking Vax’s nerves with each spider-like click. 

A deep sigh escaped his father, “I find that it would be in the best interests for you and the child to keep that sharp tongue of yours dulled.” The words were quiet, almost soft even, but Vax could feel every drop of venom they carried, “It was a blessing by the Gods that I managed to find a family like the Suls, willing to take the two of you. I expect you to treat it as such.”

Vax bit at his lip, he could feel his knuckles turning white as he gripped them behind his back, “Of course,” he said through gritted teeth, “As you wish  _ father _ .”

“Now leave.” The tapping stopped, Syldor’s attention now fully on the papers before him. 

Vax’ildan turned without another word, slamming the door as he exited the office. He stood fuming in the light, airy main hall for a few minutes. Brow furrowed and thoughts racing in angry circles.  _ Damn _ Syldor. He was stuck, as surely as a mouse in a mouse trap.

“I take it you and Daddy Dearest had a lovely chat?” leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway, inspecting her nails in an attempt at indifference, an act Vax could see through all too well, stood his sister.

“Our chats are always lovely, don’t you know?” he could feel some of the irritation leave him at the joke, his boots clacking against the floor as he walked to her, quickly glancing at the old clock in the hall. He only had a few hours left. 

The undignified snort Vex’ahlia Vessar responded with was exactly what he needed to hear, “The day our father becomes pleasant is the day the Nine Hells open a ladies hat shop,” another laugh as she rose up, straightening herself out with a pop of her stiff joints, “Anyway, what did he want?”

“My fiancée will be at the manor before the afternoon’s end, and I’m tasked with keeping her comfortable during her stay.” was the simple answer.

“The Sul girl?” she rolled her eyes, “Are you expected to shine her shoes? Make sure her feet are not within an inch of the ground? Perhaps even-”

“Vex’ahlia,” Despite his scolding tone, Vax couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him, “I enjoy this like one would enjoy being dragged by a horse,” another snort, “But, I’m not faulting Lady Sul for this,” a sigh escaped him, “As much as it pains me to do so, I agree with father….this marriage...it’ll be the best thing I can do for Vivi.” 

He could feel his sister’s eyes staring at him, her teasing twinkle turned soft, “I know that’s what father said, but I can’t help-” 

“Can’t help but think that once a legitimate heir is born, Vivian’s out of the fortune, out of the will, and on the streets begging for a scrap of food?” He could feel himself shudder at the thought of his child, covered in rags, her face smeared with dirt.

He was freed of the vivid image by his sister’s hand on his shoulder, “ I see you’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“It concerns Vivian’s future, something that consumes my every waking thought.” Vax mumbled, another sigh escaping him, “However, as….excited over that idea father might be, he’s a man of his word, the one good trait about him.” he put his hand over her’s, gently squeezing it, “I’ve worked hard, these long eight years, to make sure she’s well-off.”

When he turned to look at his sister, a small smile graced her lips as she leaned in, encasing her brother in her arms, “Of course you would, you stubborn bastard.” the affection was clear in her words as he reciprocated the embrace, rubbing her back.

“I’m so sorry sister,” he whispered into her hair, “You know you can go….anytime you want to…” 

“And leave you and my niece alone?” she pecked his cheek, “Brother….we entered this world together, so I’ll be damned if we’re ever pulled apart,” Vex’ahlia lightly slapped his cheek where she kissed him, “Besides, I love you but you’re hopeless, like you could raise Vivi on your own.” With a laugh she pulled away, grinning at her brother’s unamused expression.

He shook his head, his smile returning, “Where on Exandria would I be without my lovely,” he threaded an arm around her neck holding her immobile, playfully grating his fist onto the hair on top of her head, “annoying, sister?”

“Unhand me you bastard!” she struggled against him, her annoyed sounds devolving into laughter, “And you would be dead, many times over, never forget that!”

 

~*~

 

_ August 28th _

_ Sir Syldor Vessar, _

_ I am greatly honored by your acceptance of my proposal. Of course it would be felicitous to both parties if this deal was finalized in a more personal and intimate manner than the relatively detached nature of letters. I will have to meet Miss Vessar herself and see if this arrangement will indeed be to the betterment of myself and your household on a financial and personal level.  _

_ Henceforth I will begin my travels via airship to Emon and on to Westruun. I have estimated that I shall arrive on the 12th of October but given the winds that blow from Gatsshadow at this time of year, I would not put too great a stock in the versity of my estimation. Hopefully this letter will find its way too you with enough time for you to be prepared for my arrival, if that is not the case I can only hope that my presence will not be a great burden upon your household or your kin. _

_ I look forward to visiting Wildhelm which I have heard is the second greatest of your estates, exceeded only by your house in Syngorn. I can only hope that Whitestone will be deemed well enough by Miss Vessar and that she may come to enjoy it as much as her summer home there. With our houses united I can bring about a lovelier land for her to flourish in. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III _


	3. Chapter 2: A Bird in the Mousetrap

The branch beneath her hand bent, dropping speaks of flakey bark onto Vivian’s red face. She could smell the clean, woody smell of sap on her hands from the rough evergreen beneath her bare feet and hands. She pulled herself up onto the new branch. It bowed beneath her weight, shaking needles down below. She was almost there. The branches themselves were becoming smaller, thinner, more brittle. Light from the steadily thinning canopy dappled her dark head and across her scraped and dirtied limbs.

Vivian brushed her long hair away from her face with sticky hands and surveyed her route up the last few branches of the tree. Small brows furrowing, she searched for her goal. Ah hah! There it was! A woven bundle of sticks, straw, and leaves between the fork of a branch not far away.

She began climbing again; determination written in her flushed face and dimpled cheeks. This tree would not best her, despite the diminishing branches as she reached the teetering top of the towering tree.

The nest was larger than she had thought. It was obviously owned by a large bird, maybe a crow or a raven given the dark feathers clinging to the edges of the weave. However, whether the owner was a pigeon or a roc, the nest was void of chicks. At the very bottom of it she could make out the shards of long broken eggs, pale green-blue against the dark hollow of the center. All in all is was a bit disappointing. She climbed all the way up this tree just for the nest to be empty. She deserved at least a token for her struggle. Hm, those egg shells would do.

“Vivian Carrington Vessar!”

Vivian froze, hand just over the nest. Oh boy. She rolled her eyes to the sky as she had seen her father do many times when dealing with her governess. Governess Elvasir the frightful.

“Miss Vivian! I see you up there! Get down here at once.” Her governess's voice was shrill and cracked on the early fall air. 

“Fine, I’m coming!” Vivian sighed, she could never shake her governess for long. As aunt Vex had said,  _ Elvasir has the nose and countenance of a rabid bloodhound _ . She wasn’t sure what “countenance” meant but it sounded bad.

“Hurry up child, you are as slow at heeding me as you are in arithmetic!” Vivian made sure to rip her dress on the way down just to spite her.

~*~

“Sir! I must insist you speak with her. She is so very strong headed and I fear that without a proper scolding she will venture to do it again!” Governess Yarolyn Elvasir almost fluttered out of her ridiculously lacy shawl with agitation. “She is almost impossible to control as it is. She is decidedly unladylike despite my best effort. I found her thirty, neigh, forty feet up a tree when she was supposed to be at a lesson in history!”

Vax tried. He really did. He felt his nails bite into the spine of the slim book he held. The repulsive women had accosted him outside the teaching room, lace shawl flying in all directions and face flushed an ugly mauve.  “Miss-”

“I cannot tell you what that girl was thinking!” He was interrupted again. “What with Miss Vex’ahlia running wild I’m frankly not as surprised as I should be.”

The sharp retort almost lept from his tongue to lash her for her comment before he caught himself. She was, for all intents and purposes, Syldor’s spy. The insidious serpent, waiting to report Vax at the slightest slip in his decorum. He was trapped again, but ever so much worse, so was Vivian. 

“She cannot be allowed to-” 

“I shall speak to my daughter,” Vax interrupted, keeping the most stately demeanor he could. She would not see the cracks. She could not see his weakness.

The governess stepped aside with a haughty sniff and proceeded to wave him into the chamber beyond, triumphantly announcing his arrival to what seemed to be an empty room.

He found her under a table once the governess had left. She was dirty and scratched, her boots sitting beside her. The hem of her favorite purple dress was torn and he could see dark patches of sap on her hands where she clutched the rumpled fabric. She was pouting.

He crouched so that he met her gaze, a smirk replacing the stiff demor he held only moments ago,“Was it really forty feet up or are you losing your touch?” He asked, eyebrow rising in disbelief, “I could have sworn I’ve seen you climb at least fifty.”

Her pout began to disappear, a small smile taking its place as she seemed to unfold before him, “There was a nest at the top.” she explained, eyes beginning to twinkle. 

“Ahh,” he took far too much delight in hearing her giggle, “Find anything of interest?” He asked as she creeped out from under the desk, “What treasure caught the ever-keen eye of Vivian Vessar?” they laughed as he lifted her to his chest, disregarding the dried mud flaking onto his jacket.

Her laughter, music to her father’s ears, stopped. She carefully peaked behind his shoulder, dashing her gaze around the room to make sure they were alone, “A treasure worth more than all the gold in Exandria!”

“Your Aunt might disagree,” he chuckled with a peck to her forehead, “As would I, seeing as I hold the true greatest treasure right here,” he tapped her nose and gave her a small smile, “But you mustn’t keep me in suspense for much longer dearest I beg of you!” his voice took on a dramatic flair as he spun her around once, her laughter returning with a ring in his ears.

“Very well,” her own voice adopted the same dramatic tone as she dug into the pockets of her dress, something that she wanted in all her clothing. With another paranoid look around the room, she carefully took out her treasure, a slightly rumpled, simple black feather that looked as though she had smoothed it out beforehand, “It was in the nest…..” she pouted once more, “I wanted the eggshells too, but-” another quick look before her tone lowered to a whisper, “-the bloodhound stopped me, and this was all I could get…”

Vax was happy they were alone, so no one else could hear the forceful, ugly snort that left him, “A bloodhound she is indeed, my treasure.” he looked at the object, holding out his free hand, “May I?”

She nodded, a soft grin on her face, “It’s for you father!” she carefully reached up from his grip, delicately placing the feather in his hair, “Auntie Vex always wears feathers, and they’d look so pretty on you too!”

When she was done, he carefully touched it, feeling the new decoration where his hair was tied back, a small soft smile on his face.

“I shall never remove it,” another peck to her head, “Thank you dearest.”

She in turn kissed his cheek, hugging his neck with her tiny arms, “I love you father.”

“And I you my-”

“The carriage is at the gates!” a voice boomed throughout the manor, startling both Vax and his daughter, “Miss Keyleth Sul of the Air Ashari has arrived!” The manor becoming quiet once more.

“Lord Vessar!” The governess’s shrill voice shrieked into the teaching room, “Our guests have arrived, you are to greet them!”

He could feel his eye twitch for only a moment, his stony composure returned once more, “Of course,” Out of spite he gave his daughter a longer hug than usual, “I’ll return shortly my treasure,” he whispered into her ear, “In the meantime, I bought your book, and do try to focus on your studies.”

She gave him a nod as he set her down, taking long strides to avoid the governess towards the front door, his sister by his side in an instant.

~*~

Keyleth could feel the unease settle deep into the grounds of the manor as she looked at the ornate gilding of the doors set into the stony house as the carriage trundled to a stop. It rocked softly back and forth for a moment before steadying ere the main marble entrance of the Wildhelm Estate.

“Well, this seems to be….quite a beautiful place indeed,” she heard Tiberius mumble across from her.

“I’d have to agree,” she was led out of the carriage by the driver, who gently assisted her down the steps. With a click she was on her feet in the gravel path, swiftly realizing that they were indeed not alone.

Before the great oak doors stood three figures, dressed in somber colors. If their expressions were to be likened to the stony edifice looming above, one would be hard pressed to find a different feature. The center was occupied by a stately elf, older than his companions and more ornately dressed by far. He wore a robe of gold, navy, and black over a more traditional suit. Keyleth felt rather safe in the assumption that this was Syldor Vessar, head of the estate. The calculating leader of the Vessar family. To his Left stood a younger man, Vax’ildan Vessar, she presumed. He was of average height with raven locks and dark eyes like that of a bird of prey. Keyleth had to admit, he was indeed a handsome man, his long dark hair perfectly tied back, the single short lock that escaped augmenting the sharp features of his face into pronounced angles. His dark eyes looked into hers, and despite the smile he wore rather stiffly, she couldn’t help but see something sad and troubled in them. On the other side of their father was a woman that looked eerily similar, her hair tied in a braid and her expression far less pleasant.

“Welcome to Wildhelm Miss Keyleth Sul of the Air Ashari.”

As Keyleth and Tiberius approached, Syldor stepped forward. Taking her hand in his, he have it the most perfunctory of shakes before withdrawing, ignoring Tiberius entirely. Keyleth suppressed a shiver, his hand was as cold and pale as marble.

“I.. I thank you Mister Vessar, it is a lovely house, I’m sure it is greater than just what we have managed to glimpse from our approach,” she said, willing her voice to steady. She inclining her head in a traditional Ashari greeting as she spoke.

Syldor gestured to his left and right with tight, precise movements. “Vax’ildan Vessar and his twin sister Vex’alia Vessar.”

“Miss Sul,” Vax’ildan maneuvered himself in front of his father. She could feel his moment of hesitation, hand static in the air for a moment before he gently took her hand, placing a chaste kiss to the top, “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Keyleth thought it odd the way he was holding her hand, perhaps it was just the way one greeted a guest in these parts. “The….the pleasure is all mine… fiancé.” she meekly added the last part, softly bowing her head in hopes of hiding the utterly opaque stew of emotions that accompanied the word.

“Yes,” Vax released her from his soft grip, his hands now behind his back “I do pray that you find comfort here at Wildhelm Miss Sul.” he gave her a small smile, straightening his shoulders.

When she could feel the heat in her cheeks vanish, Keyleth raised her head, looking her fiancé in the eye. “I...I look forward to getting to know you…. and your daughter better,” she had to keep herself from flinching as his smile dropped to a flat stare, not outwardly angry, but the change was rather radical all the same. Trying to keep her focus off his eyes, she caught something else, “Is that-” she meekly pointed to the top of his head, “-a raven’s feather per chance?”

His hand carefully ghosted over the object in question, an odd look on his face as he was about to speak before his female double broke in.

“Miss Sul! How lovely to finally meet you,” Vex practically fell upon her. “We have been talking about nothing else since we heard the news all but a few days ago!”

Keyleth and Tiberius exchanged confused glances under the over enthusiastic arm placed across her shoulders. A few days ago? What was going on here? Was she imagining the deadly glance Syldor had shot in Vex’s direction? 

“As...enjoyable as this is father dear, brother dearest,”, her voice was as smooth as honey. “It’s starting to become dreadfully cold out here, and I hear that you Ashari don’t care much for the chill.”

“Oh...well Miss Vessar, we certainly don’t-”

“I think that’s an excellent idea Lady Vessar!” Keyleth wondered exactly how Tiberius was able to stay so quiet for so long, but he chose now to speak up, gently nudging Keyleth to the entrance, “We still need to unpack and get settled, don’t we Your Highness?”

A single dark eyebrow rose, mirrored by its two progeny in a truly comical coincidence of familial likeness and timing. Syldor motioned to the bags now being unpacked from the storage of the dreadful carriage. “These will be taken up to your rooms.”

“I shall escort you there! This is quite a large house after all, come Miss Sul,” cried Vex, linking their arms. 

“I hope to see you soon Mister Vessar.” she called over her shoulder to Vax who still stood by his father as though trapped in his frigid orbit.

He turned his head to face her, the same false smile on his face, “Of course, it certainly wouldn’t do to keep a lady like yourself waiting.” he gave her a small wink before turning to face his father, the straight line of his shoulders falling to hunch in on themselves.

~*~

Hours passed since the arrival of the Sul woman, hours Vex’ahlia wished she could have regained.

It wasn’t so much that the Sul woman was inherently horrible, painfully awkward, but far from horrible. It seemed, as much as it pained her to admit, that her brother was right in that Sul was as wrapped up in this situation as Vax was, it almost made her pity the girl.

Almost.

“This...this is qu-quite the lovely manor you have….” the Sul woman complimented Vex as she lead them to the drawing room. 

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Anyone else would have possibly taken the compliment for what it was, but Vex’ahlia and her brother despised Wildhelm with every fiber of their being, the other twin and Vivian being the only exceptions to their disgust.

“Yes...I suppose it is rather nice.” she reluctantly agreed with her guest as they turned the corner, stopping at what Vex knew to be the drawing room, “After you,” she slightly bowed, extending her arm into the room. She sensed a moment’s hesitation from Sul before she walked carefully through the door, Vex following suit.

Inside the room on one of the sofas sat her brother and her niece, with her father between the two of them. The youngest of the trio wearing a new, dark blue dress accented with pale gold, her hair twisted up in a braid similar to the one both twins wore on occasion. The poor thing looked miserable Vex’ahlia noted as the two women sat opposite them.

Her brother looked to his fiancé, then towards his daughter with expectancy, as did their father. Vivan’s small pout seemed to flit away as the two arrived, a curious look on her face now directed towards the Sul girl as she rose from the sofa. She pulled the hem of her dress up slightly, curtsying like she had been taught.

“Vivian Carrington Vessar,” she introduced herself in a monotone Vex likened to that of a servant, it would have amused her were it not for the circumstances, “A pleasure to meet you.”

Vex cast a glance towards her father, any hint of disapproval and she would hurtle in to mitigate the damage. However, Syldor seemed to be pleased, or at least as pleased as that man could be with the child’s performance. Vivian sat back down.

“This is the child of Vax’ildan” her father explained, his tone the correct temperature to turn blood to ice.

The Sul girl nodded, seemingly unaffected as she turned her attention to Vivian. For the first time since her and her companion arrived, Vex saw what seemed to be a genuine smile from the girl, “It is a pleasure to meet you as well my child, I am Keyleth Sul, of the Air Ashari.”

Vex’ahlia could see the light spark in her niece’s eyes, twinkling with curiosity. It dulled the moment Syldor coughed.

“You’re the tribe of Druids are you not?” Her brother and niece were birds trapped in their cage, forced to sing only what their master wanted. Vex’ahlia, on the other hand…

“Yes.” The Sul girl did not seem to notice the game being played. Good, she thought to herself, all the better.

“Is it true then, you have druidic magic?”

“Vex’ahlia.” she could see Vivian flinch at Syldor’s tone, Vax stared at their father from the corner of his eye.

“I’m simply curious father, should I not know more about my sister-in-law?” she feigned the most interest she had since Sul’s arrival, “If she is to be my niece’s mother, why, I simply wouldn’t feel right not to ask.”

“It really isn’t any trouble Mister Vessar,” The girl waved her hands, her face slowing becoming red as a beet as she turned to face Vex once more, “We derive power from the elemental planes yes, it’s-”

The Sul girl trailed off as her gaze as her gaze shifted to the door. Vex followed suit, seeing one of Syldor’s scouts entering the room.

“M’Lord, I apologize.” The scout’s attention was solely on their father, aptly ignoring everyone else in the room as she strided towards him, whispering in his ear.

Syldor nodded, quickly rising from the sofa, “I apologize Miss Sul, I have business I must attend to,” he quickly made his way to the door before pausing, his cold gaze firmly on Vex’ahlia, “Daughter, you are requested to join me.”

It wasn’t a request, that much she knew as she gave a quick nod to the Sul girl. She shot an encouraging glance in turn to her brother and her niece as she herself rose, trailing behind her father.

“I hardly appreciate you pestering our guest,  _ especially _ not for the sake of the child.” her father scolded her once they were out of earshot of the drawing room.

“I stand by my reasoning earlier,” she refused to look his direction as the two continued to trail along the hallway, “I feel like it was hardly ‘pestering’ to reward my niece for her-”

“Enough, we have more important matters to attend to,” Syldor interrupted her as he opened the door to his office. Stepping back, he ushered Vex into the room.

“Father, I must-” 

The study was not empty. Standing before the desk, was a very tall human man in a travel worn blue coat. He turned to face them, in a poised turn that belayed him as one of high society, a fact hidden by the mud of the road. His hair was so pale it might have been white and perched upon his nose was a round pair of delicate gold spectacles.

“Ah, Miss Vex’ahlia Vessar, Mister Vessar. I take it my letter did not arrive as far ahead as I had hoped. My apologies again for this happenstance, it was not my intension.”

Her father stepped around her, reaching to shake the man’s hand. “We had all the warning needed. I am glad that this could be arranged so quickly, I hope you find all that you are looking for here at Wildhelm during your stay,” Syldor said. 

No.

“I as well,” the traveler turned to appraise her. “You are Miss Vex’ahlia Vessar, I assumed but I do not wish to be too presumptuous. I have heard much about her and I might be a bit presumptuous to already call you by name.”

Vex’ahlia opened her mouth.

_ No. _

“Indeed this is my daughter. Vex’ahlia, this is Percival de Rolo of Whitestone. He has come far from the north to visit, he shall be staying on the estate until the Emon season. He is not fond of the sharp wind that blows here from the mouth of Gatshadow or any other mouth for that matter, so let us not subject him to any. Do you understand me my daughter?” 

**_No._ **

Vex closed her mouth with a loud clack of teeth. “Of course father.”

Trapped.


End file.
